Wednesday, April 30, 2008

By request – Debunking Acceptable Blackness through the second coming of the Rev. Wright drama…

This bitch is stressed the fuck out with work-based things.

Fuck a duck, where’s a large bar of chocolate when you need one?


Anyhoo, a certain Peterr sent this bitch an e-mail asking for my take on the second coming of the Rev. Wright drama and was specifically interested in whether this has anything to do with Acceptable Blackness.

Well Peterr, this bitch thinks it does.

Shall we?

A bitch has blogged about Acceptable Blackness before and how the concept pisses me the fuck off. Basically, acceptable blackness is the grown up version of the bullshit some white students used to toss at this bitch when we were in Junior High and they were feeling threatened by the black students being bused in from the city.

“Why can’t they be black like you, Shark-Fu? They sound so mad and I don’t understand them and they dress weird and blah blah followed by blah.”

I realized rather quickly that my fellow students mistook my “proper” speech and my adoration of preppified pastel fashion (shit, it was a phase…mercy) as some other kind of less threatening and more acceptable blackness.

But they were wrong.

A bitch was just as angry…just as tired of their materialistic greed based vacant judgment of others…just as black and therefore just as unacceptable as my bused in brothers and sisters.

Acceptable blackness is defined as the absence of overt culture and of difference. It is a level of conformity that requires absolute perfection. One break…one mistake…and the illusion is shattered, once broken never to be repaired again.

And the perfection isn’t limited to not indulging in public displays of blackness. Oh no, acceptably black requires perfection in your appearance, manners, speech, family, friends and associates.

I’m not talking about not having unacceptable black friends. I’m talking about not having unacceptable friends…or family…or associates…or pets...or hair...or neighborhood...or car...or musical tastes.

Achieve that perfection and your black ass is acceptable…to a bunch of trigger happy assholes that soothe their privileged guilt by letting you tag along, all the while prepared to lay down harsh and rigid judgment should your perfect mask crack.

That brings me to the second coming of the Rev. Wright drama…


..and the over the top and artificially disturbed reaction some people are having to the Revs self.

Is this a political story?

Is it really?

Do people honestly believe that Senator Obama believes/supports/embraces everything that comes out of Rev. Wright’s mouth?


Or is this about that faux perfect acceptably black mask that Senator Obama never put on himself being removed through unfortunate circumstance to display a real person…with real and totally normal Pastor drama…who fumble a bit in dealing with it because it was real and personal and he is human and so, duh, flawed…and what that lack of absolute perfection does to some people’s ability to maintain…oh Gawd, there’s that word again…tolerance?

Can I get an amen?

Lawd, have mercy now...

Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Hold please...

This bitch is buried in paper.

Bitchitude will be delayed until this evening when a bitch anticipates being able to settle down with a vodka cran and nurse my fucking paper cuts (wince).

Toodles 'til then...

Saturday, April 26, 2008

While night merged into morning...

This may ramble but fuck it.

A few days ago C-Money and this bitch watched a local news report about a homicide. A man was found shot to death in a residential neighborhood on the North Side of St. Louis city. The report featured an interview with a young man and a woman who live near where the victim was found and both of them related the shock and fear they felt upon learning that someone was killed in their neighborhood. The reporter then wrapped up by urging anyone with information about the crime to contact the St. Louis police.

C-Money and I were both struck by the balance of the story. It hit me that I was downright shocked that a news story on a homicide in a predominately black neighborhood actually featured commentary from residents…that the reporter actually took the time to add in how this crime impacted the community and residents. It is so rare. Usually crime in black neighborhoods is reported like the weather. But this feature was much like the new reports of a shooting in the county…a neighborhood in shock and residents on edge.


Who would have thought it a gift to be seen as human?


Anyhoo, my greatest fear is that my brother would be in a situation with the police. My brother is a 37-year-old young looking black man in a city that fears young black men. He is also autistic and aphasic, so he lacks the traditional communication skills that may save his life. He’s trusting...vocal and agitated when confused…and looks perfectly normal. What I know to be autism others may see as high on drugs or confrontational...and they would fear that…and they would respond to that fear the way we Americans respond to things we fear – with violence in the name of defense.

And even as I write this I know that some asshole will jump up in my comments and try to tell me about my own…try to explain to me why black men are worthy of fear. This asshole will quote statistics and crime reports and incarceration data and blah followed by blah followed by more blah all the while never understanding that the stereotype they know as “black male” is my brother, my cousins, my uncle, my friends and was my father and my grandfathers and others who have gone to be with God.

Never grasping what the murder of Sean Bell translates to for me…how my mind instantly redirected to the black men I know, the weddings I have anticipated witnessing…to real people who could have and would have been shot dead as that night merged into morning because of what police officers thought was about to happen.

Because of what is supposed to have been about to happen based on all those statistics and all that data and all that blah followed by blah followed by someone lost their lover, a father, a son, and friend.

Someone lost his life.

While night merged into morning.

And justice blinked…

Friday, April 25, 2008

A pondering...

Yesterday I experienced a moment that stirred up all manner of emotions.

As some of y’all know a bitch is a culture addict with a background in cultural anthropology. I have learned to celebrate the belief systems of others and to honor a person’s right to cultural expression.

But that value and honor shit has limits.

So, yesterday…a bitch was having a conversation with a friend and we were both expressing our annoyance over the allergy-based drama going on in our sinuses. Another individual joined the conversation and took issue with our “negativity”. A bitch was annoyed…partly because my fucking head hurt and my eyes were burning but also because I have a right to be negative just like other people have the right to Let The Sun Shine! Let The Sun Shine In! The Sun Shine In! all up in my conversation about allergies.


Anyhoo, somehow or other this positive person introduced the notion that people choose to have allergies...that led to people choosing to be ill…which led to people choosing to be born in an oppressed group and be victims of genocide…which led to this individual saying that my autistic brother was born autistic because of choices made in a previous life.

Pause...sip orange soda pop...continue.

Now, that was where the value and honor other people's right to believe shit hit my mental wall.

The conversation ended...cough...and I quickly dismissed the individual because I don’t actually think this person is committed to that belief system or any belief system as much as jumping from belief to belief whenever and for whatever reason.

But the opinions this person expressed are not new and deeply trouble me.

When I was a wee bitch some preacher told my mother that my brother Bill was born autistic because she had not been forgiven for her sins. I’ll never forget hearing that…my mother told every person she knew through a multi-day phone-a-thon that the preacher was an asshole and that she would never step foot in that church again. I have heard that same opinion expressed from many different sources and, for a while, I internalized it. A bitch used to pray and pray to God begging for my brother to be “fixed” and it took me years to realize that The Divine One answered me…Bill’s perfectly autistic and a blessing as he is. He’s not a punishment…he didn’t fuck something up in a past life…he is not the wages of my mother or father’s sins.

Poor people aren’t poor because they aren’t faithful enough…middle class people aren't not rich as sin because they aren't as faithful as sinfully rich people...cancer isn’t a punishment for some lapse in positivity…Darfur didn’t have a genocide coming from some past life transgression.

The danger of this way of thinking is that it absolves us…you and this bitch and everyone in between…of any responsibility. It is a philosophy of Not My Fucking Problem that empowers believers to walk past, ignore and disdain others who may be in need. And it acquits those who do evil of what they have done and why they did it.

It also assumes an impossible level of control. If I falter…disease, poverty and misery. If I maintain…health, wealth and joy. “I” is at the center but not in a...dare I say it?..positive fashion. This bitch knows a true thing…we humans are powerless over a lot of shit, but we can control how we respond to shit.

Anyhoo, a bitch is all for positive thinking but I’m a believer in keeping shit real.

If there’s a pile of bullshit in the room, positive thinking may bring someone in to clean that stankified mess up or mayhap that someone will come because she wasn't able to stand the smell. Either way a bitch doubts the bull took that shit in the middle of the room because the occupants of the room where getting their negative on.

Bulls shit.

Bulls in rooms will shit in them.

A bitch’s secret would be to guide said bull back to pasture and latch the gate.

Thursday, April 24, 2008

A Bitchfirmation for Christopher…

Some people have daily affirmations.

A bitch does bitchfirmations and sometimes I require them hourly (wince).

This one is for you Christopher M. of the about to take some final exams Christophers (wink).

A final exam bitchfirmation...

Be aware that you are all that and some more on the side.

Know it, embrace it and then demonstrate it.

A Wise One once said that we start as fools and become wise through experience.

Go on with your bad self and get wise.

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Next stop – Guam!

Lawd, have mercy.

The Democratic Primary season is holding on like a bad date!

Don’t get me wrong, if this never ending tour dealt with the issues a bitch wouldn’t think it a total beating.

But this this fubardemocratus clusterfuck of charge upon verbal malfunction upon run for the hills and take your guns with advertising is brutal as a motherfucker!


Anyhoo, a bitch suspects Pennsylvania is glad to see that donkey’s ass crossing the state line.

Next stop – Guam May 3!

A bitch must confess that I’ve always wanted to visit Guam. I don’t really have a reason, but why the fuck not visit Guam?


After Guam comes Indiana on May 6.

Brace yourselves, my fellow Midwesterners!

The kitchen sink, dishwasher, that cute little tile-top table complete with four chairs, the oven and broiler pan are heading your way…

Time for a groove break…

This groovetastic get up and stretch to the music blog-based break is brought to you by one tired as hell and stressed out bitch.

Thank Gawd for the music of The Five Stairsteps!

Ooh-oo child
Things are gonna get easier
Ooh-oo child
Things'll get brighter
Ooh-oo child
Things are gonna get easier
Ooh-oo child
Things'll get brighter

Go on, you know you want to sing this shit whilst laboring in your cube!

Some day, yeah
We'll get it together and we'll get it all done
Some day
When your head is much lighter
Some day, yeah
We'll walk in the rays of a beautiful sun
Some day
When the world is much brighter

All together now!

Ooh-oo child
Things are gonna get easier
Ooh-oo child
Things'll get brighter
Ooh-oo child
Things are gonna get easier
Ooh-oo child
Things'll get brighter

Right now, right now!

I don’t know about y’all but this bitch needed that.

We now return to our regularly scheduled bitchitude…

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Oh no he didn't...

Shall we?

Bill Clinton has raised the race card as a defense and this bitch has had enough!

I'm not a member of Obama's campaign or even a volunteer.

I do not have a race card.

I was not issued one at birth with instructions on how and when to play it.

When I call a person out for an ig’nant race-baiting comment that action is not 'playing the race card'…it’s calling a person out for an ig’nant race-baiting comment.

If that person is uncomfortable with that shit a bitch suggests that they get in touch with their inner asshole, because this bitch has had enough of motherfuckers whining and keening about that mythical race card every time they get corrected for deliberate verbal malfunctions designed to rouse prejudices they themselves have spent a lifetime concealing behind a mask of tolerance.

My race is not a card to be played anymore than claiming someone played the race card on you is a defense for dismissing a candidate’s political success as a product of their race.

I am not a player of the race card.

I am the wage that should be equal…the privacy that ought to be honored…the violence that will not be tolerated…the hair you’d better not touch…the reality that debunks the stereotype…the fierceness that keeps ig’nant motherfuckers awake at night…the anger that will not be ignored and the worthiness that will not be denied.

And until you do right by me...

...everything you think about gonna fail.

Monday, April 21, 2008

Pre-primary preparedness…

A bitch is so fucking glad that the Pennsylvania Primary is finally upon us my ass could dance!

Pause…shake groove thang in work-based area…continue.

It feels like years…decades…mercy!

But tomorrow it’ll be on…finally.

Pause again…sing chorus to CeCe Peniston’s Finally just long enough to get that shit stuck in Afro (shit!!)…continue.

Now, let’s see…this bitch will need some shit.





At least two sub shop options from which to score St. Louis version of cheese-steak yumminess?


Several writing instruments?



C’mon, a bitch is certain to hurl shit at the telly. I don’t trust anyone who doesn’t throw shit at Pat Buchanan’s rancid ass...just ain't natural.


Um, check!


Logs off to search for song to kick Finally out of head…

By request, my thoughts on the debates…

Happy Monday, y’all!

This bitch spent my Sunday getting my eat on at A Tasteful Affair, which is a fundraiser for Food Outreach. Thanks to all the food vendors who provided samples of yummified goodness and congrats to all the volunteers and staff of Food Outreach on an event well done!

Mercy, and Dining Out for Life coming up this Thursday too.

Gawd, a bitch adores food-based fundraisers that benefit a great cause!

Moving forward…

A certain Desi from Cheyenne wrote a bitch an e-mail requesting my thoughts on the Democratic debates.

Well Desi, this bitch has a hard time watching political debates because they contain more posturing bullshit than substance.

And I know my ass isn’t alone.

Very few people can suffer through 21 servings of re-fried policy and overcooked political nonsense. Thus the fall-out isn’t really from the debates themselves but rather from the spin rustled up by all sides involved after the debate is over.


Long ago when a bitch was a wee bitch I used to think political debates would be more like the Lincoln-Douglas debates or more Kennedy-Nixonesque. Now, I’ve resigned myself to the fact that these debates are a test of who can fuck up less than the other person while not really saying or challenging a damned thing.

Oh, if this bitch could host a debate…

The scene – the couch-based area in the Casa de Bitchitude complete with comfy lounge and throw blankets for this bitch and the candidates. I'd be situated where the television usually lives between and in front of both couches (for the candidates) which are lined up to either wall…fresh vodka cran and debate notes would be within easy reach.

Both sorta-beagles and Sweetie the three-legged chow would be wherever they wish to be and every human would wear flannel nighties and a soft pair of socks.

That's what C-Money and a bitch sport when we have our political debates every fucking Sunday!


Where the hell was I…oh yes!

My questions would focus less on proposals than on from whence they came...why did the candidate take this approach instead of that one to deal with healthcare, poverty, immigration, national security and the economy?
Who advised them and why...who advised them and then got kicked to the curb and why?
I'd ask what they anticipate the political make-up of Congress to be when they enter office and how they think that will impact their proposals?
Basically, this bitch would structure my debate to the skills needed to do the job these people are trying to score.
How do they think, make up their mind and decide that something is not working and on the way to being fubar and that history will forever indict them and their advisers as the worst administration EVER and damn them for eternity and then some as the oh Gawd....sob...oh, my Gawd...give me a minute...cough...sorry, but sometimes I have these Make This Nightmare End spells...whew!
Anyhoo, I want to know how they approach shit.
Oh and I'd have to ask...

Will you pledge to take no more than two weeks vacation per year while in office?
What is your favorite curse word?

And how do you eat your grits (wink)?
Lawd, a bitch would pay money to see a poll showing a candidate behind by 15 points in a Grits Approval ranking...

Friday, April 18, 2008

Follow the money…

Okay, so today is Fair Pay Day – the day in 2008 when the average woman's wages finally catch up with what the average man earned in 2007.


Women in the United States earn only 77 cents for every dollar earned by men.

African-American women earn 63 cents and Latinas earn 52 cents for every dollar paid to white men.


Please take action and urge the Senate to pass the Fair Pay Restoration Act. This act will help women faced with pay discrimination take action against their employer.


The earth moved, y’all…

Lawd have mercy, the Midwest had ourselves an earthquake!

This bitch’s recollection of that earthquake shit…
It was around 4:30 in the morning and the house of bitchitude was quiet. A bitch was passed out on the couch (my ass had a long week, damnit) with two sorta beagles snoring beneath my blanket at my feet.

Suddenly, the house began to sway as if it were in a boat floating on a pissed off ocean.

ABB to Betsey the sorta-beagle… “What the fuck? Is this an earthquake? Jesus!”

Betsey the sorta-beagle lifted her head slowly, looked around and then grunted. Theo continued to snore but his eyes opened up.

The shaking stopped…Betsey repositioned and went back to sleep. Theo never really woke up.

Figuring out that my dawgs don’t predict earthquakes – interesting.

Being reminded that my ass lives near the New Madrid fault at 4 o’clock in the fucking morning – freaky.

Feeling so fucking tired that my ass was hoping it really was the end of days – a damn shakified shame.


Thursday, April 17, 2008

A call to action…

When William K. Wolfrum reached out to this bitch and asked me to join in raising some awareness around the need for people…and specifically people of color…to register as potential bone marrow donors a bitch jumped at the chance to participate.

As a St. Louis native, I became aware of the need for folks to register through Nelly's efforts to find a donor for his sister who was unable to find a donor and died from Leukemia.

Ethnicity matters when matching a bone marrow donor with a person in need. 88% of white people in need of a bone marrow transplant find a match while only 60% of Black people find a suitable donor.

According to the National Marrow Donor Program, 11 million people worldwide are on the bone marrow donor registry. Five million white people are registered as potential donors. 500,000 black people are and this bitch doesn’t like that one bit!

This post is a call to action for all people to register as potential bone marrow donors with the National Marrow Donor Program.

And this is a direct appeal to people of color and specifically people of African descent to lead by example and register then tell others to do the same and spread the word.

Click over right now...right here...right this minute.

Let's do this and raise awareness together.

And may those waiting for a donor match be blessed with time…

Links and such...
The National Marrow Donor Program: Here you will find a plethora of information on the bone marrow registry, including how and where you can register. They can also be reached at 1(800) 627-7692.

Jes Us For Jackie: Rapper Nelly’s ongoing effort to get African-Americans involved in the bone marrow donor registry. Nelly’s sister died from Leukemia, unable to find a donor.

Emru Townsend’s site: Townsend has worked tirelessly to create a site that has information on his plight, as well as information on bone marrow drives throughout the U.S. and Canada.

The Caitlin Raymond International Registry: An International bone marrow and cord blood search and donor recruitment center.

African-American Community Health Advisory Committee: More information on the need for African-American marrow donors and information on how the process takes place.

Asians for Miracle Matches: Non-Japanese Asians, Native Americans, and Pacific Islanders are also underrepresented on the marrow donor registry. A3M is trying to change that.

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Save the date - Blog for Fair Pay Day...

Blog for Fair Pay Day!

Women in the United States are still paid only 77 cents for every dollar paid to their white male counterparts.

African-American women earn 63 cents and Latinas earn 52 cents for every dollar paid to white men.

Gosh, do I feel lucky.
Okay, so it’s time to take action.

A bill awaiting a vote in Congress would help women fight for fair pay. Advocates are pushing for the Senate to vote by the end of April, to commemorate Equal Pay Day on April 18.

Raise your voice in support and sign up to post to your blog on Friday, April 18, about the importance of fair pay for women.

If you even dream about schooling me you'd better wake up and apologize…

Dear trifling knave,

In response to your e-mail claiming that I should "acknowledge the truth" of BET founder Bob Johnson’s comments defending Gerry Ferrarro’s comments that Senator Obama’s political success is a result of his blackness, this bitch has a question…have you lost your motherfucking mind?

Seriously, if a bitch didn’t fear for your sanity my ass would publish your fucking e-mail with your e-mail address (c’mon dude, who the hell e-mails an AngryBlackBitch from their work e-mail address…really?) and bring the flock of bitchitude down upon you!

Lawd, give me strength.

For the record, Robert Johnson has been wrong for so long that the dictionary ought to define right as the opposite of whatever comes out of his mouth.

And I’m not some cult member who needs a black prophet to tell my ass what’s what, motherfucker.

This luck of blackness shit has been spun dry, son.

Robert Johnson isn’t pissed off because Senator Obama is being handed a large percent of the black vote based on being black…he’s pissed off because he lacks the credibility to draw black votes and he’s doubly pissed because the race-baiting bullshit from Clinton campaign supporters opened the door to the loss of a lot of the black support Senator Clinton started out with.

I’m sure that stings but I don’t really give a fuck. Voters don’t reward insults with support, so if Mr. Johnson or other knavish fools are frustrated they need to look at the campaigner in the mirror.

And you, oh knavish foolish one, need to think and I mean think hard before you try to school a bitch...

Monday, April 14, 2008

Get thee behind me, Rummy!

Rummy is back on the scene with a memoir set to be published in 2010.

Pause…wait for screams of horror to quiet down…continue.

Calm thyself, flock of bitchitude!

I know exactly what to do.

ABB’s imagining of exorcising Rumsfeld’s evil spirit from society as interpreted through a scene from The Exorcist…

ABB, whilst flinging drops of vodka cran at Rumsfeld: I cast you out, unclean foulness!
Rummy: Freedom's untidy, and free people are free to make mistakes and commit crimes and do bad things.
ABB: In the name of all that is logical, thought out or even slightly planned! The power of Spock commands you!
Rummy: As you know, you go to war with the army you have, not the army you might want or wish to have at a later time.
ABB: Be gone rancid beast!
Rummy: Needless to say, the President is correct. Whatever it was he said.
ABB: The logic of Spock commands you! The power of logic and reason commands you! The logic of Spock commands you!
Rummy: [moans] There are known knowns. These are things we know that we know. There are known unknowns. [spews pea soup across the room] That is to say, there are things that we know we don't know. But there are also unknown unknowns. There are things we don't know we don't know. [spins head in circle a couple of times]
ABB: Be gone! Merciful heaven, you stink. I cast thee out!

Lawd, where’s Dante’s Eighth Circle of hell when you need to cast someone into it?

Pondering the tone of the immigration debate…

I’m late to the topic of immigrant rights and a bitch is trying to catch up. Oh, I’ve written about immigration reform and the misuse of immigration as a wedge issue in American politics, but a bitch is still studying this shit.

What I do know is that the debate around immigration has been and continues to be bigoted as hell.


It has, y’all. The tone offends me and I don't even claim an immigrant history.

I attended the Immigration in the U.S.: The Women's Rights Crisis Feminists Aren't Talking About panel at WAM! and was inspired to write a piece for RH Reality Check that went up today. Missouri is on the brink of passing legislation that claims to address illegal immigration, but it is drenched in anti-immigrant bullshit that has no place in the discussion.

Ruben Navarrette Jr. has a Commentary up at on this topic. Oh, and read the comments...some of them are beyond ig'nant.

I live in St. Louis city and one of the things I love about my home is how culturally diverse it is. Community and culture existed before the French planted a flag along the Mississippi and the River City has since become home to Italian, Irish, German, Bosnia, Chinese, Caribbean and immigrants from African countries and the Middle East. When I walk down South Grand, I see and hear diversity and it feels good.

But America has long struggled and failed to address immigration with decency and respect. Just as communities and groups defended and supported Irish Need Not Apply signs, we now have people playing their Bigot Card on the topic of immigration.

It is easy to point out how the nastiness of the anti-immigrant immigration debate hurts immigrant communities and immigrants.

But the cold hard reality is that it hurts all of us as it reveals the ugly face of bigotry beneath the mask of tolerance this nation slaps on before greeting the world.


Anyhoo, this reminds me of a conversation I had with a Navajo woman while visiting New Mexico and drooling over handmade jewelry. She told me that while she was visiting Utah someone yelled out of their car for her to go back where she came from. She laughed and said if people went back to where their people came from, Navajo visiting Utah would have one of the quickest moves.


Save the date - ACLU of Eastern Missouri National Directors’ Series…

The ACLU of Eastern Missouri is continuing their 2008 National Directors’ Series on Wednesday May 7 with Reproductive Freedom Project Director, Louise Melling.

Her keynote address will be: From Abortion Bans to Sex Ed: The State of Reproductive Freedom
The decision when and whether to become a parent is one of the most important a person can make and one that has a profound affect on all aspects of our lives. To make this important decision, women must have access to the full range of reproductive health services, including sex education, contraception, prenatal care, birthing services, and abortion care. Unfortunately, we live in a world where access to many of these services is threatened. Legislatures pass more and more restrictions on abortion, the federal government continues to pour taxpayer dollars into ineffective abstinence-only-until-marriage programs, and some pharmacies refuse to fill prescriptions for birth control pills. This talk will discuss recent challenges to reproductive freedom as well as efforts to realize a world where everyone can get the reproductive health care we need so we may build the lives we want.

The event takes place on Wednesday May 7 at 6:30pm at the offices of the ACLU of Eastern Missouri 454 Whittier Street (just south of Olive in the Gaslight Square).
This event is FREE and open to the public.
RSVPs are encouraged as seating is limited.
314-652-3114 ext 23

Learn more about the ACLU Directors’ Series at

Anger, bitterness and allergies…

A bitch is feeling a wee bit under the weather today. I think the freakish spring temperature changes have jumped up and fucked over my sinuses (wince).

Sniffle…dab watery eyes…continue.

Shall we?

This bitch is often fascinated by the response of political pundits to certain words and phrases. Mayhap they are too intimate with the body they report on or perhaps they just don’t like being critical, but it appears that the media is thrown by words like anger and bitter.

On anger…
This bitch is big supporter of anger.

Catch that knee, damnit…my congested Afro is killing me and I’m not in the mood for kneejerktitude!

Anger…not rage… is a natural emotion and it is long past time the masses stepped away from the feast of Soylent Green The Man has been serving up and felt some shit again. This bitch is talking about anger, which speaks to expectations and disappointment and frustration. Anger means you give a shit and it is often the only way folks can tell that they didn’t meet your expectations or that you are on to their bullshit.

But just look at how shocked the media was when the topic of black people's anger jumped up in the Democratic primary campaign. Their shock is proof that too many angry black folks have been holding that shit back in diverse company.

Speak, damn it! Express thyself so that someone other than the choir knows what the hell you are thinking.

Warning - daily explorations of anger are slightly addictive (wink).

And there is no excuse for journalists that live in New York City, Philly and D.C. to not know the concerns and emotions of people of color. Y’all need to get your diversity on more than once every four years! Back away from the fucking computer…walk out of your insulated work and living areas…and experience your fucking cities you self segregating, out of touch and shocked for no reason but your own out of touchedness fools!

Sniffle…glare at Claritin bottle…continue.

On bitterness…
This bitch lived in Pennsylvania for more and a few long stretches of time. My maternal Grandmother lived in Allentown and my father was born in Bethlehem, so I have tons of family in Pennsylvania.

I spent one long summer in Allentown in the 1990’s and…well, folks I met then were bitter as a motherfucker.


Hell, this bitch was bitter and frustrated too.

If Allentown had a dollar for every “y’all sure are resilient!” political speech tossed at them instead of a viable proposal for industrial growth maybe there’d be no reason for bitterness. No, everyone wasn't always bitter. I had some fantabulous fun times in Allentown. But the Billy Joel song still applies and there’s no spinning your way out of it.

Nor should politicians want to walk away from the shit.

Lawd, if candidates spent half the time they spend arguing over whether voters are bitter coming up with economic solutions that address why voters are bitter they’d be onto something.
But that’s too much like right…right?

Now, I’m not trying to absolve Senator Obama for his foot-in-mouth...what the hell was he thinking...doesn’t he know that Democrats have to avoid the elitists label...verbal malfunction caught on cell phone video whatsitcalled last week. That shit was ill timed, poorly stated and the verbal equivalent of tossing one steak at a pack of starving dawgs.

Having said that, some people…lots of people…are bitter for a lot of different reasons.

Cough…dab leaking eyes…continue.

A real time example…
This bitch is angry that my ass can barely afford to feed my car and still be able to feed my sorta-beagles…I’m fired up over that 60 Minutes Iraqi corruption report that aired last night (what the fuck, what the fuck, what the FUCK!!??)…a bitch is more that a little pissed off that the so-called housing relief bill is really bullshit designed to relieve builders…and I’m also angry that the issues most likely to impact my life aren’t getting coverage because everyone is looking for that one big fuck up moment that will derail someone rather than looking for the collection of policy proposals that will make a fucking difference in the lives of voters.


Mmmhmmm, and I’m bitter as hell that all the good allergy meds are bad for my blood pressure.


Friday, April 11, 2008


It’s a rare thing for this bitch to be completely blindsided by a happening, but my ass is beyond upset to learn that brownfemipower has shut down La Chola.

I’ve read a lot of posts that get into the who, what, when and why of it all. My vodka cran adoring chil’ren over in the land of Live Journals (love y’all for keeping shit real!!) have been all over this shit too. I was at WAM! though I did not witness a lot of the shit that happened there (a bitch is anti-social even when I travel) but I was able to sit in on the session where BFP presented (fantabulous!!) and walked away with a whole lot of additional inner work added to my to-do list.

I really wish I could crank out a something that would relate what I’m feeling but that’s not going to happen today.

My thoughts right now are selfish as a motherfucker and this post is just going to have to reflect that shit.

I hate to see another WOC blogger shut down.

I do!

I’m sure the time will come when my angry black ass says fuck it and logs off for the final time…and I sincerely hope all y’all mourn a bitch properly and for an extended period of time.

Pause…make note to write up specific ABB blog mourning instructions…continue.

It’s just that I’ve learned so much reading brownfemipower’s posts and from having the pleasure of meeting her and from reading the work of others she was kind enough to bring to our attention on her blog.

But I know that selfish don’t trump what we need to do for ourselves.

I get that part, but I don’t have to like it.

So this I’ll say directly to BFP with the sincere hope that she is reading.

Be well, my sister, and be blessed until you’re ready to once again bless us.

The naked woman/person/thing reflected in Dickie C.'s sunglasses story...

This bitch has had one hell of a hectic week and I’ve been stressed to the max and bitter with it, but the naked woman/person/thing reflected in Dickie C.’s sunglasses story made my fucking day.

Not that I think Dick Cheney is grinning hard whilst gazing at some naked young thang.

C’mon now, y’all know better than that!

Examine the facts, damnit (picture is available through this link)!

Let's see now...Dick Cheney is grinning hard, he’s wearing his Duck Motherfucker outerwear ensemble plus hat and he’s outside.


And reflected in his sunglasses is what appears to be some sort of figure.

Uh huh.

A bitch recommends that folks find out who didn’t make it back from that vacation trip and start looking for recently turned earth.

Oh as if Dick Cheney getting his freak on with a human being makes more sense…

Thursday, April 10, 2008

Hope glimmers on the horizon…

A certain Ghost Lurker caught this bitch’s state of mind the other day, which is more than a little weary but not quite a full Howard Beale, and dropped a comment.

GL commented…

In a number of previous posts, you indicate a love of the political process and forwarding ideals and ideas. This post seems to mark a bit of a change: "Politics is war and electability is about the conditions on the ground in late October 2008."

That said, I agree. Sadly, so. How do you reconcile the cynicism and the idealism when teaching citizenship classes? And, is it even possible to elevate politics in this country after two stolen elections? Moreover, given the past two presidential election cycles, how can we even maintain any of the ideals you teach? Not trying to be a smart ass. Trying to find a glimmer of hope.

Well, Ghost Lurker even this bitch gets tired (wink).

Having said that, I love the political process because it is vital to our lives as Americans…and that is the reason why I simply can not let weariness overcome me.

I don’t see myself as an idealist…I’m a realist. Politics is war and even if more of us participated with passion and dedication I believe it would still be waresque.


People like to argue and lots of people like to hear themselves talk. Democracy is anything but easy. The thing is, people fighting over public policy because they give a shit about how it will impact their lives and community is beyond cool to me and rarely inspires weariness. People feeding their ego rather than serving the masses…well that makes this bitch want to holler and throw up both my hands.

When I teach my classes I try to keep it real. There are people involved in public life for a ton of reasons none of which include serving the public. There are special interests lobbying on behalf of groups that don’t care if your child goes hungry, who could give a shit if your family is on the brink of economic ruin and who do not lose sleep after sending someone else’s child off to fight a war they would never take up arms to fight themselves.

How do I reconcile the cynicism and the idealism when teaching citizenship classes?

The masses are the solution and we can not afford to lose. My students are uniquely vulnerable to fucked up public policy and that means they should be uniquely motivated to vote and then ride the ass of government to do their motherfucking job.

Is it even possible to elevate politics in this country after two stolen elections…how can we even maintain any of the ideals I teach?

Honey bun, the reason politics is fubar is rooted in the lack of participation demonstrated by the people…but that should inspire not depress us. Look at the amazing voter registration going on in the country. Now is not the time for activists to give in to frustration. Now is the time for us to take a step toward our fellow citizens who took a step toward us when they registered to vote.

New voters need more than a ride to the polls…they need to be engaged and educated on how they vote works and their rights.

The political process needs more than new voters…we need newly engaged, fired up and tired of the bullshit, letter writing, petition signing, phone call making, door knocking citizens prepared to participate in the giant job interview that is a presidential election.


The only way I know how to maintain my ideals is to live them and have the courage to change when I’m not doing that shit. And that is so much easier to do in a crowd than solo.

Anyhoo…a bitch is still tired. Giving a shit is hard work (wink)! I’m sitting here fretting over a million will funding cuts impact my autistic brother’s life, how will the fucked up from the floor up education system impact my community, will this war become our children’s children’s war because our generation failed to act…am I working hard enough or am I even making a difference?

That’s the stuff that keeps a bitch up at night…

…and it is the same shit that gets my ass up in the morning.

Color me audacious.

Tuesday, April 08, 2008


A certain Eric from Des Moines sent this bitch an e-mail requesting my thoughts on the question of electability.

Okay asked for it!

Step away from that polling data now.

Go it!

Polls asking general election electability questions before any real general election campaigning are the very definition of bullshit. Just look at all the ig’nant shit Democrats managed to cram into the space between New Hampshire and Super Duper Tuesday…ain’t no telling what people will get done by November (wince).

Anyhoo, it is true that the Dems are being ├╝ber vetted in this contest whilst Senator McCain is enjoying the fruits of his labor. That’s the benefit of closing the party nomination deal while the other side re-configures the rules of the game. But people really need to stop fretting about McCain getting a pass…all fuck ups are being fully documented and will be dusted and polished for reintroduction after Denver.


Electability isn’t about polling or stale ass questions asking who a voter trusts more or likes more or would like to have a beer with.

Politics is war and electability is about the conditions on the ground in late October 2008.

If violence in Iraq is contained and McCain can spin that…

If the economy is fubar and the Democratic nominee has ideas…

If either nominee picks a Vice President who can’t debate worth a shit…

If we have a harsh summer or a mild fall…

If Congress fucks something up or the Bush administration continues to fuck up….

If a sex/drugs/trade negotiation that doesn’t jive with campaign rhetoric/memo/video/nanny scandal breaks in just the right way at just the right time…

If third party activists are able to uncover/manufacture a sorta-scandal and spin it until you want to hunt them down and shove a swift boat where the sun don’t shine…

Electability is about the ifs and whether a candidate has enough solid enthusiastic support to combat them.

As a crystal ball, this bitch can only look at how each candidate still standing has run their primary campaign.

I’m reminded of an incident from my youth when a wee bitch used to play tennis. I lost a match in the third set after winning the second in a cool ass comeback-esque fashion. There I sat, full of drama, trying to get my sulk on by bitching about tie-breakers in general. My coach sat down beside me and told me that if tie-breakers decided tennis matches she’d quit the game. I blinked at her in confusion and she added… “You had three sets to win that match and so did she…there’s nothing to learn from bitching about the tiebreaker and lot you need to improve on from the match.”

I’ve heard the same said of baseball and hockey…and truer words have never been said of politics.

Candidates must achieve their nomination…winners win and there ain’t no Superdelegate way around that shit…but the only electability poll worth shit is the one voters will deal out this November.

Monday, April 07, 2008

Oh, for the love of…

Okay, maybe a bitch is just having a Monday kind of Monday, but all this talk about Condi Rice being the dream candidate for Senator McCain because she’s a black woman is pissing me the hell off.

My ass needs to know if political talking heads are really trying to say that Condi Rice as a Vice Presidential candidate will automatically tilt some serious political scales because she is both black (how lucky of her…and me…and others ‘round the world...wince.) and a woman and everyone worth their bullshit knows that black + woman = political kryptonite!

Pause…listen to sound of crickets getting their groove on…continue.

Lawd, someone needs to tell Dan Senor (otherwise known as Campbell Brown’s baby’s daddy) that affixing a high profile conservative sistah to John McCain’s ass will not make his presidency a slam dunk.

A bitch will admit that there will be some black voters who, depending on whether and how badly the DNC fucks up in Denver, will be vulnerable to the seduction of the dark side…but Ms. Rice will have to campaign on her record of Bush adoration and there aren’t a lot of ways to dress up eight years of minion-hood to look pretty.

But the political herd has never been one to let reality get in the way of a batch of raunchy speculation porn.

Fuck it, after this primary season anything is possible.

And if you could look up Acceptably Black in a dictionary Condi Rice’s picture would be grinning back atcha…

Lawd, give me strength…

By request, a clarification…

A certain Terraling asked this bitch for some clarification on some shit from a previous post. Specifically, Terraling wants to know if by stating…

We are a people who hear political surrogates talk about 'black luck' while we witness black reality....who hear anti-choice advocates talk of black genocide while we witness their policy in action – HIV/AIDS infections, teen STI rates, teen pregnancy and a threat to black families that mocks the term pro-life.

…a bitch meant to say that “there is a deliberate (rather than, say, shamefully neglectful) policy to undermine the black population with HIV etc etc.”

Great question!

This bitch is a front line activist who works with youth and I know that anti-knowledge anti-prevention policies are having a devastating impact on communities of color. I didn’t need to read a newspaper report to know that teen STI rates were on the rise…I don’t need to look at a spreadsheet to know that my community is in the midst of a STI outbreak that represents a staggering percent of the youth population…and I don’t need to attend a hearing to know that reproductive health clinics that are a tremendous resource to my community are fending off attacks from the very people pontificating about the value of human life.

But Terraling’s question isn’t about what I know or what the data tells us…it’s about what the anti-choice side knows and their response to the data.

Pause…sip water…continue.

In reaction to the one in four teen female STI rate, here’s what one of them had to say.

Linda Klepacki, sexual health analyst for Focus on the Family Action
“With such high disease rates in teenagers, we’re just missing a tremendous opportunity to talk to them about the benefits of being abstinent until marriage." … "This is the time to teach kids about personal accountability and abstinence education. As it looks from this conference, the CDC is not grabbing that opportunity and taking it.” As told to Family News in Focus.


Now, this bitch will be the first person to say that abstinence education and personal responsibility both need to be staple dishes served at the comprehensive sex education table, but that one in four teenage female STI rate data is screaming that abstinence education alone is simply not nutritionally balanced.

My experience doesn't support abstinence only education as the answer nor do the facts support that shit.

So, I’m left wondering if Linda and those like her really give a flying shit about facts…about the risk of cervical cancer from HPV infection…about the way our nation’s healthcare crisis factors in to a lack of treatment drama for all of these sexually transmitted infections…about the connection between teen pregnancy and those high High School drop out rates everyone has been chatting about…about the connection between dropping out of high school and healthcare disparities, depression, neglect and poverty…about the lives of women and children and youth and the future of communities.


At a certain point shamefully neglectful becomes deliberate action, but this bitch isn't a fan of absolute statements and I'm not working up to one here.

Some on the anti-choice side are being shamefully neglectful...others look like they have crossed that line...and the majority are advocating policies and programs that do not now and never will address the realities on the ground.

I hope that helps clear shit up...

Friday, April 04, 2008

Now let us begin…

One of my favorite songs is Eyes on the Prize. The lyrics have always inspired me.

Paul and Silas, bound in jail
Had no money for to go their bail
Keep your eyes on the prize,
Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on,
Keep your eyes on the prize, hold on!
The very moment we thought we was lost,
Dungeon shook and the chains fell off,
Keep your eyes on the prize,
Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on,
Keep your eyes on the prize, hold on!

40 years ago today Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was murdered. Today there will be ceremonies and services and analysis upon analysis of how far we have come and how far we have yet to go.
10 years ago today, April 4 1998, my father past away unexpectedly in Chicago. So my thoughts are for those who grieve an intimate aching grief even as they remember the extraordinary man who was their father.

The question before us is not what would have happened had Dr. King lived, but rather what we prepared to do with our inheritance.
What will we do?

Ask a young person what their dream is?

Participate in government and hold those elected to office accountable?

Be a voice within the chorus calling for an end to this war?

Commit to fighting the war on poverty?

Support the efforts of organized labor as Dr. King planned to do on this day 40 years ago?
Our inheritance is the movement for social justice and it was purchased through the blood, sweat and tears of extraordinarily ordinary people just like us.

Only thing that we did wrong
We are a nation struggling with race, class and gender and the recent immigration battle has exposed the yet untreated infections of bigotry and fear.

Was stayin' in the wilderness so long

We are a people who hear political surrogates talk about 'black luck' while we witness black reality....who hear anti-choice advocates talk of black genocide while we witness their policy in action – HIV/AIDS infections, teen STI rates, teen pregnancy and a threat to black families that mocks the term pro-life.

Only thing that we did right
We are a nation at war that is given leaders who speak the language of patriotism but used it for the instruction of fear…our children’s children will either wonder at our tolerance or marvel at our courage.

Was the day we begun to fight!

And my dream is to be worthy of my father’s sacrifices…his military service, his activism within the movement and the years he spent taking shit from the man so that his children could have the kind of life he had been denied.

Keep your eyes on the prize, hold on!

The storm is still raging and the struggle continues...but deep in my heart I do believe.
Hold on!

Now, let us begin.

For my father, who taught his daughters that the one thing he did right was the day he started to fight.

Thursday, April 03, 2008

Taxes, death and trouble…

Lawd, have mercy, a bitch has to do my taxes.


It’s not as if my taxes are terribly complex. My ass is broke and once a year that fucking EZ form confirms that shit for me. But motherfuck it all to hell if this bitch isn’t damned insulted to see how much I’m paying for fuckeduptitude!


I get the city tax thing and, although I have issues with how those funds are being used, at least I can see some results.

And I guess I get the state tax thing too…although there are times when it feels as if I’m feeding kibble to a wolf currently stalking my ass.

But this bitch is pretty damned pissed to be paying for the tore up from the floor up, pork addicted, posturing career bullshit artists who couldn’t find their ass with both hands who make up the majority of our government!

This can not be good for my blood pressure.

And isn’t it fucking crazy?

Think about it!

This bitch knows people who get fired up when their $10 lunch is poorly prepared, but we all just take governmental fubar sitting front of a computer...trying to make all those bloody numbers add up to a motherfucking refund.


As Marvin sang, there's only 3 things for sure: taxes, death and trouble.


This bitch had better take care of number one or my ass is gonna catch some serious number three…

Wednesday, April 02, 2008


Today is World Autism Awareness Day. This bitch was surprised to learn this. Clearly my ass is no longer on the autism news mailing list (wink). But I’m all for awareness and in that spirit this bitch shall share a wee autism story with y’all.

My older brother Bill is profoundly autistic. He was the first born so my sister and this bitch have always lived with autism in our world. Bill is aphasic…hyper active…and, other than a wicked case of autism, perfectly healthy (thanks be to God).

When I was a wee bitch I used to think Bill was faking.


Oh fuck a duck...he’s my older brother and watching him get away with all manner of bad behavior and tantrum throwing made me question why my ass was acting normal. Shit, it looked like the ultimate hustle to me at the time.

Anyhoo, Bill used to raid the fridge for goodies and never get in trouble. Let a bitch score some cookies and my ass was grass…but Bill was “autistic”, so he could inhale all my Girl Scout cookies prior to delivery (drama!!) and a bitch was supposed to explain that shit by saying “well, my brother ate them…he’s autistic!”


One day, while my mother was trying to grab a nap, Bill made for the kitchen. I ran in after him to stop whatever feasting he was about to get about the bitness of doing. We had a brief tug of war over the fridge door and then he started spinning and screaming. He whirled and whirled about the kitchen, waking my mother and getting this bitch into a world of trouble.

I fled to my bedroom where I proceeded to get a monster sulk on for an hour or two. When I came out, my mother was sprawled on the living room floor staring off into nothingness. She looked so tired and so dejected and I just wanted to make it all go away. But suddenly the silence hit me.

“Mom?” I asked.


“Mom, where’s Bill?”

Her eyes went instantly alert and called for him but got no answer. She jumped up and ran out the back door.

No Bill.

She ran around the house shouting for him.


Frantic, I made for the front lawn and there he was sitting square in the middle of it buck-naked eating an apple.

And there it was…the relief and the love. I sat down beside him and called for my mother who stood before us in nothing but a bra and a slip, the midday sun shining down like a spotlight on our perfectly imperfect drama.

“Where the hell did he get an apple?” she gasped.

I laughed, too relieved to be embarrassed that my brother was naked on the lawn and my mother was in her underwear looking crazy with sweat running down her face and her hair standing up in tufts.

“Who the hell knows?" I replied. “He’s autistic.”


My brother has been autistic for more years than I have been alive. He has dreams we don’t know about, concerns he’s never shared and the kind of personality that makes strangers smile when he steals their soda pop at the McDonald's.

Bill is not a cure that didn’t happen…he is more than the treatments that failed…he is my brother.

May everyone with autism in their world find the laughter within the frustration, the joy within the pain and the strength to love a different kind of normal.

That is the ultimate awareness of autism.

By request - getting started...

A certain SagaciousHillbilly raised the question of how people can get started with a volunteer program like my voter education classes.

Great question!

People can always volunteer through an organization and for lots of folks that’s the best way to rock the volunteer thang. Mentor programs like Big Brothers Big Sisters are a great resource because they match people with youth in need of a volunteer. I also love Habitat for Humanity because their volunteer events are something a group of friends or co-workers can do together.

My voter education classes evolved over time. I randomly asked the class if they were registered to vote and several of the students rolled their eyes. When I asked what was up with that shit they said that voting was stupid because the candidate they voted for never won (note – they later admitted to having only voted once.). Further quizzing unearthed a serious lack of knowledge regarding how politics impacts our daily lives.

A bitch was disturbed and then my ass got motivated. My Voter Education class is the result of learning a true thing about voter motivation – if a voter doesn’t know what a State Rep. does they don’t have an incentive to make sure the right person holds that office. In short, registration alone isn’t enough…an educated voter is a lifelong voter.

My classes begin with a United States Citizenship prep test, which few students usually pass (wince). Then we tackle government, policy, who votes on what and why and how to gather information on pending legislation. My students are encouraged to ask questions of those in power…to challenge our law maker’s affection for pork and dislike of oversight. By the time we are finished my classes students can pass the citizenship test and are filled with vote-based bitchitude!

They know why they are voting not just that they should vote.

Anyhoo, the best programs are developed around a need. Find that need in your community that speaks to you and then reach out to people and resources to problem solve through your volunteer work.

Go forth, get your volunteer on and be sure to let a bitch know all about it!

Tuesday, April 01, 2008

A pondering...

Let’s just jump straight in, shall we?

This past weekend a bitch was honored to participate in a presentation at WAM! Over 600 people hung out for three days in the funktified Stata Center building at MIT to discuss and debate a multitude of cool topics. This bitch was asked to participate in the Choice USA Youth Speak panel and explain how new media fits into my volunteer work with young homeless mothers.

As some of you know, this bitch is an activist who blogs. I have committed myself to volunteer as a voter education, women’s health and life skills teacher at three area women’s shelters. The residents are young mothers or mothers-to-be who are homeless. Some are temporarily homeless because their family is between homes, others are survivors of abuse and many have been kicked out of their homes as a result of their pregnancy.

My work began as a classic 'volunteer = save the world' project.



Fuck it, at least I admit it!


Anyhoo, I joined a women’s group that partnered with a local shelter to teach basic budgeting. Thinking that my ass could change the world one motivational session at a time, a bitch signed up. I prepared my lesson plan, printed off a PowerPoint presentation and sharpened my pencils. A little over four years ago I walked into a classroom full of ten homeless women under that age of 20 prepared to teach the wisdom of household budgeting…and I walked out with my mind completely blown.

You see, there is a huge difference between an academic understanding of struggle and a real world understanding of it. Oh, I’ve had hard times…trust a bitch. But these women were facing some serious shit as mothers and that’s a different galaxy from a bitch facing shit with two sorta-beagles (wink).

My students have taught me far more than I have taught them. Their dedication to being good mothers…the energy it takes to balance work, family and school…the strength it takes to confront addiction, rape and abuse…the mathematical brilliance required to stretch $20 for two weeks…yeah, these women are amazing.

My classes have evolved to integrate women’s health and reproductive justice, life skills and voter education. We use the internet for all of that but I also cover how to find shit out if you don’t have a computer, because many of my students will not have access to one when they leave the shelter.

I have to admit that the voter education class is the most spirited. My students really get into researching policy and debating each other over dinner (imagine a universal healthcare debate with baby apple sauce flying across the table...fantabulous!). By the time they voted in the Presidential Primary things were tense as hell, but I was able to cool things down by pointing out that democracy isn’t about agreement.

While this bitch is blogging a response to Gloria Steinem my students are researching which candidate for State Rep. has the best position on education, affordable housing, job creation and health care.


And while I was at WAM! they were trying to do in a weekend what most of us have a week to do...and fit in watching Washington Week with the fantabulous Gwen Ifill. Who said homework can't be fun?

I'm preparing for another class this week and wondering how I can bring WAM! home to them.

In a way, that is the challenge facing all teachers, activists and volunteers.

How do we translate theory into action...humanize our programs...and inspire rather than instruct?

A bitch is pondering my next class and, as usual, wondering what the hell I've gotten myself into...yet knowing that there is nothing I'd rather be doing with my Thursday evenings than discussing the candidate's economic plans with my class.

Dive in...

...I highly recommend it.

The Gumdrop Stage of Grief ...

So many of you have shared condolences and support after the death of my beloved brother Bill from COVID-19. I wish I could thank you indiv...